


Eight Arms to Hold You

by octopus_fool



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 07:21:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13608414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octopus_fool/pseuds/octopus_fool
Summary: Marar has run as far as he can, but he does need to sleep eventually. Unfortunately the place he choses for a rest already has an owner.





	Eight Arms to Hold You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spoke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoke/gifts).



Marar stumbled over another branch. It was dark and he was getting too tired to keep running. He looked over his shoulder. It had been a while since he had last heard his pursuers, but that and the fact that he was fast didn’t mean that they couldn’t catch up eventually. But he needed rest. Just a few hours of sleep and he could continue running, or consider where he was actually running. 

He glanced up at the trees. It was risky, they might find him or he might fall. Marar had always been good at keeping his balance though, and had even fallen asleep in the big oak tree at home under which the pig routed for acorns once or twice. He hadn’t fallen down and broken all his limbs either. It was the only thing to do, really. 

Marar glanced around for a suitable tree, one with the first branches high enough that only an experienced climber could get up and with a dense crown that would make it difficult to see him from the ground. The trees in this part of the forest were old, so luckily, it didn’t take him long. 

He scrabbled up an old oak, much larger than that at home. Small things rustled in the branches and Marar desperately hoped there were no fainting ants or screaming squirrels around. He couldn’t afford to alert his pursuers and if he was stung by a fainting ant, well, falling from such a height would leave his worries about pursuers mote. As Marar climbed up through the branches, he checked for the slime of flesh-eating grarmadotes. He shouldn’t be in too much danger since they preferred beeches and he hadn’t seen a beech in hours, but he would rather avoid waking up as a skeleton. Well, waking up at all might be a bit optimistic for that scenario.

That was how he found the hammock. It was a bit of a surprise, really. Marar didn’t particularly like surprises, not when he was out in the forest. He tensed, looking around. 

“Hello? Who is out there?” 

Maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea to call out, even if it was in a whisper. His brain must really be fuzzy from exhaustion, Marar realised. Then again, it was better to have a confrontation now than have something creep up to him as he slept.

But there was no reply. Cautiously, Marar reached out to touch the hammock. It was from the softest silk Marar had ever felt, softer even than the scarf his Ma had once woven for the Emperor’s youngest daughter. The pattern it was woven in was strange, not one he had ever seen before. He briefly wondered what the loom that it had been woven on looked like, but his tired brain refused to come up with anything that would work. 

Marar hesitated. The owner of the hammock could return and he wasn’t sure he wanted to meet whoever that was. But he was too tired to climb down and look for a different tree and if the owner returned, it wouldn’t make much difference whether Marar was sleeping in the crook of a branch or the hammock itself. Besides, the ancient laws of hospitality would help him. Surely, they even applied out here in the forest. 

Carefully and still holding onto the branch, Marar eased himself onto the hammock. It held fast without being under any noticeable strain. After testing that it was really as sturdy as it seemed, Marar let go of the branch. He could see very little of the ground below, just leaves. That suited him just fine, since that meant he would be next to invisible from the ground unless someone looked up while standing right below him. He ate a little of the dry bread from the emergency bag he had managed to grab before running off and then lay down, clutching his bag. He noticed the faint reddish glow of chazaris mushrooms on one of the branches above him. Good. There really were no flesh-eating grarmadotes around then.

 

Marar woke to a gentle vibration on the hammock. He had dreamt of sitting on a harp, listening to a strange melody being played on it, running through him. 

Pluck. Pluck. 

Marar opened his eyes, not moving but glancing around. It was broad daylight and there was a thrush singing somewhere not too far off. The chazaris mushrooms looked drab and grey in the daylight. Aside from that, all he saw was leaves and branches.

Pluck. Pluck. Pluck.

He sat up. there was a large beetle crawling over the branch next to the hammock. Otherwise, he still saw nothing but the tree he was currently sitting in.

Pluck.

There was a distinct clicking noise. Directly below him. 

Slowly, Marar looked down. He nearly jumped, then thought better of it. Whoever ran became the hunted. He would be slow in running in the tree anyway and if he fell, well, he would fall right into her arms. Her eight massive arms, black, hairy and each of them thicker than his own legs. One of them reached idly towards the silk fastening the hammock to the tree.

Pluck.

“Good morning, Sweetlegs. Did you sleep well?”

A gargling sound escaped Marar’s throat.

“I thought so. It can’t be comfortable sleeping on the hammock instead of hanging under it properly.”

Marar stared at her, not that he had dared to take his eyes off her once he had spotted her. 

“You’re a bit shy, aren’t you? You do know that traditionally speaking, you should be the one serenading me? It’s a good thing I’m a modern lady.”

“Serenading?” Marar asked dumbly.

“Oh dear, you really are from outside the woods.”

“Just barely.”

She clicked her pincers. Then she plucked the hammock again and Marar suddenly recognized it as the melody from his dream. 

“That… that was you?”

“Of course. Do you see anyone else around?”

Marar looked at the giant beetle, scuttling away just like Marar would have liked to. He wondered if pointing the beetle out to the spider might be a good idea, seeing that she could eat that instead of him. But then again, the beetle would hardly be enough to be filling to a spider of this size and he desperately wanted to avoid reminding her of the topic of food. 

“Not really?”

“Oh Sweetlegs, you really are too adorable.”

“Why do you keep calling me ‘Sweetlegs’?” Marar regretted the question as soon as he asked. He really didn’t want her dwelling on just how his legs would taste. 

She made that clicking sound again. 

“Just look at how adorable they are! All soft and weirdly shaped and far too few.” The spider brushed against his legs with one of her own and Marar did his best not to shudder. “And your hands. May I look at your hands?”

Marar raised his hands slowly.

That disconcerting clicking of her pincers again. “Sweetlegs, my eyes aren’t really the best-developed of my senses. My sense of taste is far better…”

Marar recoiled.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. I wouldn’t go through the effort of serenading you just to eat you.”

“That’s… um, nice?”

“I was going to say that my tactile sense is how I usually see things. Go ahead, touch it.” She raised another leg towards him.

“Your leg?”

“Of course. Run your hand over it so my hair can sense you.”

“Your hair?”

“Are you going to keep echoing what I’m saying? Just go ahead, what else would I feel your hand with? What else would you use the hair on your legs for?”

Marar considered. “Nothing, really? It’s just kind of there.”

She stared at him. It was rather disconcerting, but then, this entire experience was disconcerting and increasingly surreal.

“You’re messing with me, aren’t you? You just have hair on your legs that is completely useless?”

“No, I’m not messing with you, definitely not. I would feel if a fly lands on it, but that’s about it. I definitely wouldn’t use it to examine something.”

“Oh, you’d use your hands, right? I’ve always been fascinated with human hands and have always wanted to take a closer look at them, especially to see how they work. They’re always a bit useless when they are limp.”

“Limp? Oh.” Marar’ mind suddenly vividly showed him the giant spider bending over limp hands, limp arms, limp bodies. Perhaps she was only keeping him alive because she wanted to explore his hands first?

“Look, I’m willing to show you my hands in as much detail as you want to feel. I was just wondering what you had planned for after that.”

“I though we might have something to eat.”

Marar swallowed. “And when you say ‘we’, do you just mean you or…?”

The spider huffed. “I said ‘we’ and I meant it. You look like you could use a square meal and I’ve caught more than I can eat these past few days. I have deer or some nice insects, if you’d prefer that.”

“Deer sounds nice,” Marar said, his head spinning slightly, he wasn’t sure if from relief, the prospect of eating insects or because he really could use a meal. “So I just touch your leg?”

“Yes, at least that would be a start.”

Marar reached out and brushed through the hair on her leg. The longer hairs grew strong and coarse while the shorter hairs were soft and sensitive. 

“Can you move your fingers and your thumb?” The spider asked. “I’m quite interested in figuring out how they work.”

Marar did so, making sure to brush against the hairs.

“Oh, so that’s how you do that. And your thumb can just move back and forth like that?”

“It can.” Marar demonstrated again. 

“Thank you so much. I’ve really wanted to find out more about that.”

Marar was not quite sure what the correct protocol for being thanked by a giant spider was. 

“You’re welcome,” he said. “I’m Marar by the way.”

“My name is…” A series of complicated clicking noises followed.

Marar swallowed. “Could you maybe repeat that?”

She complied.

Marar tried his luck. “Karika?”

There was a different set of clicks, the ones that Marar was coming to realize might be laughter. At least that was what he hoped.

“That’s close enough.”

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I might just not have the right type of mouth to pronounce it correctly.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not the first one to struggle. I really don’t mind if you pronounce my name the way you do. Now what about some breakfast?”

“That sounds good.” Marar hadn’t even noticed just how hungry he was. Now he just had to figure out which of the food Karika had was edible. 

She led him several trees further across the crossing branches of the forest. Marar hadn’t realized that it was possible to climb from tree to tree that easily.

After a fairly short walk, they came to several pale bundles hanging from the branches of a tree. 

“I think I’ll have some of the deer. What about you? I have the deer and several different insects.”

“I think I’ll also try the deer.” That sounded least risky, though Marar was all too aware that he would not be able to light a fire. That wouldn’t matter much though. While he did prefer his meat cooked, he had eaten it raw on more than one occasion, not least during the yearly autumn rituals. 

Karika hoisted one of the bundles up onto a branch by the threads it hung from.

“Go ahead, help yourself.” Karika already leaned down to eat from her side of the deer. 

Marar carefully pulled away the wrapping in one place. It looked like deer alright. That at least was comforting. He took out his knife and set it to the deer. The skin was as tough as usual, but as soon as Marar pressed down, he didn’t feel muscle-filled flesh. Instead, there was a distinctly squelchy feeling.

“I really don’t want to be rude, but how long has this been here?”

“I caught it just yesterday. Why do you ask?”

“It feels so… runny.” Marar gingerly pressed down on the skin. There was a sloshing sound he was sure he couldn’t be imagining.

“Of course. I’ve already had a nibble at it yesterday, so it’s already nice and predigested. You can tuck in immediately, no need to wait.”

“Predigested?”

“Yes. I bite it, let some of my juices run into it and wait until the tough meat turns nice and runny so that I can drink it. If I’ve already eaten from it earlier, then it’s predigested and I can start eating right away. How else would you do it?”

“I’d cut off a bit and eat it.”

Karika stared at him. “Don’t you choke on the chunks? Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Not unless I’m too greedy and don’t chew each bite properly.”

“You chew _each bite_?!”

“Yes… don’t you?”

“I only chew towards the very end of a meal, to squeeze the last of the juices out.”

“Oh.”

“This is a bit awkward. I don’t think it would be a good idea to cut out a chunk of the skin, it might get a bit drippy. Would you perhaps prefer one of the insects instead? There are quite a few I haven’t started on yet.”

Marar nodded. “I think so, yes.” After all, he wasn’t completely opposed to trying new things, not when the alternative was that much worse.

Karika hoisted up another of the bundles, a fairly small one this time. Marar still wondered at the size the insects in the forest grew to be. 

“This one is a grasshopper. Is that alright for you?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“I know it’s a small one, but if you want more when you finish, just say so. I’ll be happy to give you something else.”

“Thank you.”

‘Small’ was not the word Marar would have used to describe the insect before him. It was the largest grasshopper he had ever seen, about the length of his entire hand and quite stocky. Once he managed to pry open the tough shell with his knife, he tentatively tried it. It would probably have tasted even better once cooked or grilled and possibly with a nice sauce or marinade, but it wasn’t bad. And it tasted less like chicken than the rats he had eaten in the Hunger Year, which was a good thing in Marar’s mind.

Once they had finished, Marar watched as Karika cleaned her pincers and pedipalps with her front legs. 

“So you are really just able to put big chunks of your food into your mouth and chew them small?” Karika asked conversationally. 

“Well, my teeth are well equipped for the task,” Marar replied.

“Teeth? Can I have a look at those? They sound a bit different from my teeth.”

Marar wondered where Karika kept any teeth, unless she meant her pincers with that. But that was the least of his problems right now. He had experienced how Karika liked to ‘look’ at things and his gag reflex had always been alive and healthy.  
“I’m afraid I wouldn’t be terribly comfortable with having any part of your leg inside my mouth.”

Karika clicked her pincers. “Nor would I be comfortable with that. You’ll just have to get really close to my eyes, at least if you don’t mind doing that.”

“That’s fine with me,” Marar said, refraining from adding that it definitely helped knowing that she had already eaten. 

He opened his mouth and got as close to Karika’s eyes as he felt comfortable with.

“What about your mouth?” He asked once her curiosity was satisfied. “I’ve never heard of spiders having teeth. May I have a look?”

“They are the pointed parts of my chelicerae. You’ll want to be careful that you don’t jab yourself on the tips of my chelicerae while inspecting them.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t intend to touch anything. I’m quite happy to look with my eyes.”

Karika happily showed her mouth parts and demonstrated how they work. It was quite fascinating really, Marar thought. Everything on normal spiders just was far too small to look at properly. 

They spent the rest of the day comparing how their bodies worked and occasionally eating something from Karika’s food supply. 

 

When the sky turned dark, Marar started yawning. It seemed he wasn’t quite as caught up on sleep as he had thought when waking up that morning. It wasn’t too surprising, after all the fright of finding a giant spider next to you tended to make anyone wake up fast and thoroughly. 

“Why do you do that with your mouth?” Karika asked.

“Yawning? That’s because I’m starting to get tired.”

“Yes, but what does it do? Does it make you less tired and how so?”

“It doesn’t make me less tired, I’m afraid.”

Karika looked at him as if trying to puzzle it out. “But why do you do it then? What good is it?”

“I’m actually not sure. I’ve never really thought about it.”

“But it’s your body! Surely you must know how it works!”

Marar shrugged. “It just happens.”

“You humans really are strange. But let’s go to sleep then.”

 

They climbed back to the tree with the hammock and Marar was glad he didn’t have to navigate the branches in complete darkness. 

“So do you want to share my bed with me?” Karika asked.

Marar tried not to flinch. He had had the feeling that things might be moving in this direction and he hadn’t yet figured out how to react. As well as they had gotten on during the day, he did not know how well Karika would take rejection. And the alternative to rejection… well, he didn’t even know how that would work, nor did he want to. 

“I’m afraid I’m not somebody who gets into relationships that quickly,” he replied cautiously. 

Karika clicked her pincers. “Who said anything about a relationship? We spiders aren’t really known for relationships, are we?”

Marar definitely did not like the turn things were taking. He decided to try brashness. “No, that’s true. So you were thinking of a nice one-night stand with an enjoyable breakfast for you at the end?”

Karika rolled her eyes, all eight of them. “I’ve told you before, I’m a modern lady. You seem to be slightly obsessed with being eaten though. Are you a traditionalist? Because if you prefer…”

“No, no, I quite like modern ladies! Everything modern sounds good! That said, I’m afraid I’m really not up to anything in that direction, I barely know you yet.”

Karika patted him on the back with one of her legs, nearly throwing him off-balance. “Don’t worry, Sweetlegs, I was just messing with you since you veered off in that direction. I really meant sharing the hammock strictly for sleeping. We spiders aren’t really used to using our hammocks for amorous activities. But don’t worry, I’ll weave myself another one a few trees over so that you won’t feel uncomfortable.”

“Um, thank you. I’m really sorry for putting you through this much hassle.”

Despite feeling slightly guilty, Marar was rather relieved about this new development.

 

Marar was unsurprised but still slightly relieved when he woke up well and unharmed the next morning. Karika was restless though. 

“What’s wrong?” Marar asked, watching her climb about and twitch from thread to thread.

“There are people around, people and four-hooves. They usually don’t venture this far into the woods.”

Marar’s heart sped up. “I think they are looking for me.”

Karika looked at him critically and he wondered how well she could see him. As if on cue, one spidery leg reached out and tapped across his arm.

“You’re scared. Did you run away from home?”

“Yes, but not like that. I saw something I shouldn’t have and they came after me.”

He had barely had enough time to grab the bag packed for such a case and run into the woods, his sisters shouting after him as though he had stolen the bag. Nobody could afford to let the mayor’s men think they were aiding a criminal. And while Marar didn’t know what that pouch of gold was for, it seemed that seeing it change hands amounted to being a criminal. 

“What will happen if they find you?”

“They’ll either capture me and throw me in prison or they’ll kill me right here. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the latter, otherwise I might have the chance to tell people what I saw.”

Karika idly cleaned her front legs. “Do you want me to take care of them for you?”

“Would you be able to?” What a stupid question. She was a fifteen cubit long spider, they were a handful of juicy men. He tried again. “Would you be willing to do that?”

“It wouldn’t be much effort. And I don’t like men trespassing this far into my part of the woods.”

“Then yes, it would help me a great deal if you took care of this.”

“See you before the stars start shining then,” Karika said, following one of the strands of silk towards the next tree.

“Karika?” Marar asked, having a sudden afterthought. 

She paused, turned and looked at him, hanging from her thread like the enormous creature of twilight she was.

“Yes, Sweetlegs?”

“Please just don’t tell me what you did with them.”

Karika made that clicking sound that definitely was laughter. “Alright, I won’t.”

 

It was getting dark and Marar was just wondering whether to settle down and go to sleep when Karika returned.

“You don’t need to worry about them anymore. I sent their four-hooves to the woodmen.”

“The woodmen?”

“They have lived from the resources of the woods for centuries, though lately, more people from outside have joined them. I trade with them sometimes, though they don’t particularly like dealing with me in person.”

“And you took care of the other men, the ones following me?”

“Yes. I’d tell you how thoroughly I did, but you said you didn’t want any details.”

“I don’t. But thank you for taking care of this for me.”

“You are more than welcome.”

“Karika? Why are you doing this for me?”

“I like you. That, and you are quite interesting. But you seem tired. We can talk more tomorrow.”

Karika turned to climb over to the next tree, where she had spent the previous night under a hammock of her own.

Marar took a deep breath. “You don’t have to leave this tree. I’m encroaching on your home and taking your bed from you. I don’t mind if you stay here. The hammock is big enough for you to hang under it and for me to lie on it at the same time.”


End file.
